Gary Brown: Sailing into the sunset with Jimmy Buffett

It seems appropriate, if there ever is a good time for death, that singer Jimmy Buffett left us as summer was drawing to a close.

His songs served as an anthem for the season. The sea. Surfing. Sailing. Smiles. Sitting in the sun, sipping on a margarita someplace where summer seemed like the paradise that always appeared was in the popular singer's mind when he performed.

That turned out to be everywhere, of course, to those who enjoyed Buffett's music.

Touchdown time: Gary Brown: Time to avidly watch the big college games

When I sailed, paradise mostly was in Ohio, on inland lakes and across Lake Erie. Buffett accompanied me on nearly all those sails. Not personally, of course, for I never met the man. But, his music almost always was with me as I sailed along on a summer breeze. A gentle wind and the songs would take my mind away from any unimportant saddening thoughts that might want to turn the season stormy.

"Changes in Latitudes, Changes in Attitudes." "Son of a Son of a Sailor." "Bama Breeze."

The songs appeared to keep pace with the motion of my boat.

I was at peace on that boat with Buffett in the background and open water ahead.

Pairing music with the man

Was Jimmy Buffett a great singer? I'm not enough of an authority on music to answer. I know who I like to listen to, and Buffett is on that list.

I can't claim I was a Parrothead, if following Buffett around the country to watch him perform in boat shoes and shorts and a summer shirt is the measure for membership in that group. I saw one testimony to Buffett following his death from a man who said he had earlier this year seen the singer on stage for the 90th time.

Feeling safe as a kid: Gary Brown: Growing up in a world we could trust

Still, "Margaritaville," the name of the Sirius/XM satellite radio station that plays mostly his music – all his music, in the weekend following his death – occupies one of the "speed buttons" on my vehicle's radio.

Hey, you can sail in an SUV when you want to feel like its summer, even in the dead of winter.

In my home, Alexa probably knows what I'm going to ask her to do on a lazy afternoon.

"Alexa, play Jimmy Buffett music."

I don't seem to be able to get the singer's last name out before "Fins," "A Pirate Looks at Forty," "Boat Drinks," or "Pencil Thin Mustache" wafts through the rooms downstairs.

Good life of free spirit

Like many listeners, however, his top seller "Margaritaville," his crowd-pleasing "Cheeseburger in Paradise," and his first Top 40 hit, "Come Monday," were three of my most welcomed songs. It appears I'm not the only person with those preferences.

"Margaritaville" and "Cheesburger in Paradise" became well-known enough to spawn two different food and drink franchises by the same names as the song titles.

They helped make Buffett a billionaire, although he seemed like the same free-spirited surfer and sailor – self-proclaimed "beach bum" – who looked his whole life for that "lost shaker of salt." He kept that image to the end.

"Some of it's magic; some of it's tragic," he once sang in a reflective song that he once said was his favorite, "But I had a good life all of the way."

In a social media meme posted following his death, St. Peter was greeting Buffett at the Pearly Gates, acknowledging his "good life," which included his share of philanthropy.

"Here's your halo and your wings," he told the newcomer, who was dressed in a flowered shirt and yellow shorts.

"Oh, and a new pair of flip flops..."

It doesn't take much to imagine that there was a margarita and a cheeseburger waiting for Jimmy Buffett to get settled into paradise.

Reach Gary at gary.brown.rep@gmail.com. On Twitter: @gbrownREP.

This article originally appeared on The Alliance Review: Gary Brown: Sailing into the sunset with Jimmy Buffett